


I Second That Emotion

by shellface



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Future Fic, M/M, Romance, after CoHF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 12:03:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellface/pseuds/shellface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec still needs reassurance from time to time. Magnus tries to find the words to show how much he matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Second That Emotion

His Alec. So young and yet so painfully sure he didn't matter. He'd known people like that before, of course – insecurity seemed rampant among mortals, perhaps because the world was cruel – but with Alec, it was something different.

 _“I'm – trivial.”_ The words stung. Is this what he'd done, by keeping his past something he would never reveal?

He'd honestly never meant to, though he supposed that was easy to say after the deed was done, and not much of an excuse at all. But he was sorry for it, and even though things had changed – even though he'd told Alec more truths about himself than he'd told anyone else in his life – it still lingered between them.

It wasn't his fault, though he hadn't helped. Alec was the older brother, the loving, over-protective guardian of impetuous, showy siblings who didn't quite realise how much their brother hid behind them. He was something in his own right – he was desirable, sexy, special – in his own right, and yet he'd seemed so surprised that Magnus would even see him with Jace and Isabelle around.

Most people would see them first, it was true. You could hardly miss them, with their angel-marked beauty and the obvious way they primped themselves. But Magnus had lived a long time and loved a lot of people, all so similar and so different. Sometimes the prettiest of people were boring.

Not that he was saying that Jace and Isabelle were vacant; quite clearly, they weren't. But their kindnesses were different. Their hearts did not beat for others in the way Alec's did, and though they would throw themselves in front of him to save him in a heartbeat, it was not the aim of the way they fought. They took Alec for granted because that was how their world worked.

Because they'd let Alec hide behind them all their lives, and not thought to stop and tell him how much he meant – how wrong their lives would be without him, how he was as much an integral part of their family team as they were. It was not their fault. Things like that were hard to say; they sounded contrived, unless revealed in the heat of the moment, and really, they would just embarrass Alec by saying them anyway.

He was too insecure to hear a compliment and believe it, and yet he was brave enough to go for what he wanted. So brave that he pursued a warlock, not knowing what he was getting into, not knowing that Magnus could not – would not – give him everything.

And then he'd gone and fallen in love with the stupid boy. It was an accident, really, but how could he not, when Alec was so without guile, so utterly charming and _good_?

It had been a long time since he'd met someone like that. A long, long time. Most people did not care about him in the way Alec did. They did not understand that he was tender too, insecure and set in his ways.

But Alec – his sweet, steady, careful Alexander – was young. And he had never forgotten that – could not forget that, when he looked in his eyes – but it got lost, somehow, when he let himself lose himself in the uninhibited way Alexander gave everything to him. Theirs was not just a relationship of the minds, and Magnus was glad of it. He could be shallow when he wanted to be, and that was human. That was right.

Jealousy was to be expected, especially as he was so inexperienced. Magnus was his first everything; his first kiss, his first relationship – even his first real love. That wasn't to take away anything from the seriousness of their relationship – Alec loved fiercely, and made it very clear this was _it_ for him – but it was not something to be forgotten.

So the jabs about having slept with everyone he ever mentioned were unavoidable, in a sense, even if they were immature and quite probably below the belt (though Magnus enjoyed going under there a great deal himself). As a self-proclaimed freewheeling bisexual, he had had many lovers, but he thought he'd made it clear that Alec was different. That he was special. That he wanted him for as long as he could have him.

But he hadn't, and Alec's old insecurities – the belief that he did not matter as much as everyone else – had coloured his perception of their relationship.

He remembered his simple, oddly confident proclamation. _“I know me, and I won't ever be okay with that.”_

Deep down, Alexander did know himself; knew that his feelings about himself would never allow him to rest easy if he did not feel that Magnus had asserted that he mattered. And Magnus had realised that, even before he said it. It was why he had laboured over the stories he'd told; why he'd been so anxious to have them as accurate as he could.

Catarina had looked at him with soft, sympathetic eyes when he'd asked her to help. “You're doing the right thing,” she'd said, though neither of them knew if it was enough to bring Alexander back to him for good.

So when Alexander repeated those words from so long ago, his heart clenched, and he found himself unable to say anything to fix it. He was naturally sardonic; abrasive, Ragnor would have said. Sweet words did not come naturally to him as they might others. He was too used to hiding what he really felt to make it hurt less when they all disappeared, as they always did.

It was a side-effect of immortality, he'd found.

“You are – ” he started, throat mysteriously tight. Must be all the cat hair. “You are wrong, Alexander,” he said, the formality alien with someone he'd shared so much with. “ _So_ wrong.”

Alec looked ready to argue – so stubborn; a typical Lightwood – but he'd cut through his incoherent spluttering. “I don't – I,” he sighed, raking a hand through his hair, left down for once, “I don't do this, Alexander,” he said softly. “I don't settle down with people like this.”

He held up a hand as Alec opened up his mouth. He knew what he was going to say, and that wasn't what he meant. “I have never been married,” he said quickly instead, as if getting the words out as fast as he could would keep Alexander quiet. “Not once,” he repeated, as Alec's mouth became a thin, sullen line.

He looked like his mother when he did that, though the angry set of his folded arms and jawline were all his father's.

“And I want that with you,” he let the words spill out of him without a sarcastic quip to buffer the sharpness of his feelings. “I want the whole family thing with you, Alec, and I have never, ever had it. I've never truly considered it because you matter. You aren't just another notch on my bedpost,” which would have been whittled to a stump by now, if he was in the habit of doing so, “you're my – my – ”

He cast about wildly, looking for a word that encompassed what he meant. “My Alexander,” he said softly, quietly.

Alec just looked at him, those blue eyes stormy. “I'm not a possession,” he muttered, arms folded so tightly that the muscles of his arms bulged.

Magnus fought back a smile. Ever the contrary shadowhunter. “No, you're not,” he agreed, “but that doesn't make you any the less mine, because I love you, Alexander Lightwood,” he enunciated the words, as if every syllable was important, “and that is that.”

Alec swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. He was all sharp planes in the dusky light, his cheekbones pointed and almost fey-like. “Okay,” he said, as if Magnus had just proposed they go see a movie, or something equally as unremarkable. “Okay.”

And because he knew Alec – because he could see the tic working in his jaw – he did not immediately rebound with an indignant 'Okay – okay? That's all I get?' and simply stayed silent.

“You're mine too,” Alec said eventually, a dull flush creeping up his cheeks. “I just – ” he turned away, lips pressed together, clearly embarrassed, “I want you to know that. I love you.” He said in that abrupt, almost blunt way of his.

“Well, now.” Magnus smiled something akin to his Cheshire Cat grin, but a little more sultry. “If that's cleared up...” He let the suggestion hang in the air, and merely watched as Alec's eyes lit up with amusement.

His movements were slow, almost as if he were warring with himself, but once he was near enough to see the glitter smudged around Magnus' eyes, he grinned. Still hesitant. Still careful.

But confident enough to pull Magnus towards him by his belt loops, secure enough to laugh before he leant in and claimed Magnus' mouth as his own.

He hadn't magically calmed Alec's fears – there was no real magic that could do that, mundane or otherwise – but he'd somehow said the right thing.

And that was enough, for now.

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine that Alec would still be very insecure, even as he got older, so this happened. The title is taken from the song of the same name.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
